The Plan
by strange isle
Summary: Light's scheme was both devious and elegant. Too bad it's gone awry. Now in the aftermath, L demands answers, but Light's not exactly in the most amenable of moods. L/Light, sort of.


**AN**: Ok, here's the deal. This was my attempt at writing an "in medias res" fic, where the reader is plunged headfirst into the story and has to play catch up with the plot.

I actually think Light's original plan was fairly risky, but "Light's scheme was pretty dumb. No wonder it went awry." made a much worse story summary.

* * *

The plan is well, thoroughly, and irrevocably fucked. Laid waste to, ruined. A splintering shipwreck of brilliant maneuvers and stunning short-sightedness. There was nothing in place for such a contingency— he'd thought out hundreds of scenarios, mapped countless branches of possibilities, but there couldn't be anyone alive with the prescience for this.

"L. So that really _was _your name." It's actually sort of hilarious.

"Kira-kun has the eyes now, then." L's already flat voice is entirely devoid of inflection. Four bodies racked in heart attack induced contortions lie sprawled across the floor. That _would _go some way in explaining his lack of surprise.

"Mmm," Light says.

The noncommittal answer seems to be what finally affects L. "The eyes! _Why_? Why now? And at what cost? Tell me." He punctuates his words with agitated gestures by his free arm. L keeps the other clutched tight to his shoulder. He grimaces in pain with every arm jerk, but he keeps doing it, which is pretty funny too, Light thinks.

"Shh, L. What good would it do me to answer that?"

"You killed four men while I watched. Wouldn't you say the pretense is over?"

"You know as much as you've always known, which is not enough for a conviction. Let's just get back to headquarters for a change of clothes and a shower and a— a hot meal. I'll even bake your favorite cake if you ask me nicely enough!" Light's voice is shaking and he feels the first tendrils of hysteria creeping into his mind. "Oh god, please slap me."

L hits him and he sighs with relief despite the corpses and Ryuk's echoing laughter and the fact that he has just been backhanded across the face very hard. Light's just glad that the entertainment value had been high enough to persuade Ryuk to help.

Half his life... and all for the man currently fighting through his pain to dissect Light with a sharp stare. Where was the moment it all went sour, the fatal divergence? When they'd been captured? Or months earlier when stupid, self-denying L had him chained to Watari instead. For a genius, he really was a fucking moron. The both of them.

"I can't develop feelings. That's how most idiots screw up." He remembers such a thing passing through his head regarding Misa once, and he's practically shaking at the thought that he knew better, he really did. But Misa was never the danger— it was L. Bright-eyed, brilliant, black-haired L, the reason he's standing now in some dank basement rubbing the sores on his wrists from his second illegal imprisonment and pondering every last one of his poor decisions.

L stirs, catching Light's eye, and there's the slightest softening of his expression. "You've done—" L starts. "I don't know exactly what you've done yet, but I'm alive because of it. So perhaps I owe you some consideration. He starts forward and reaches a tentative hand out to Light, whose shock gives way to a hard smile.

Ahh, there it is. At least they're both equally ensnared, a mutually assured destruction. It may as well be a joke between them at this point, the unspoken attraction that plagues them both. But though L may have hidden it well, he's harbored this affliction for far longer than Light has. He wonders at the months L has borne his desire in quiet, confiding in no one, not even Watari. The man's strong willpower must be stretched wire thin. Oh yes, the demise will be reciprocal.

Light clasps L's hand, smiling still, and draws him in nearer. L responds almost at once, running his palms against Light's sides with a fierce desperation. Light exults in this sole victory; despite all that's transpired, L is finally HIS. He pulls L's face close to kiss him after so long, oh how he's _wanted _this, but L evades the press of his lips. The touches don't stop, however— if anything they grow even more frantic. L's hands are practically down Light's pants when he tears them away to snarl "L, what the hell are you doing?"

"There must be a page, or even a scrap hidden on your person. There has to be something!"

Light twists L's arms and then halts, trying to decide whether to restrain him further or shove him away. L's mouth flies open in a silent gasp.

"I'm hurting you." Light backs off.

"It hurt more when I slapped you, but it was worth it. Maybe I should do it again."

"For both our sakes, don't."

"I will convict you. There is proof and I will find it," L says. "This changes nothing."

Light laughs a violent laugh until he's coughing and even then his wheezes sound like laughter. No, there's no salvaging the plan now.


End file.
